


Fear

by curiouscorvid (prometheanTactician)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, But it's not real blood, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 10:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12724647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prometheanTactician/pseuds/curiouscorvid
Summary: Blood had never bothered Jonathan before. It was something he’d always been around, something he’d always been familiar with. It never upset him. Hell, sometimes it even thrilled him. There was something so deeply invigorating about being the one to drain someone of their life essence, seeing the red paint the walls in an arched spray that would shine in the dim light of a Gotham evening.This was different.





	Fear

_Blood had never bothered Jonathan before. It was something he’d always been around, something he’d always been familiar with. It never upset him. Hell, sometimes it even thrilled him. There was something so deeply invigorating about being the one to drain someone of their life essence, seeing the red paint the walls in an arched spray that would shine in the dim light of a Gotham evening._

_This was different._

_He was crying. He knew he was crying but he didn’t have it in him to care. There was no time to care. Edward was dying and Edward needed him. Edward was choking on liquid red, struggling to breathe just as Jon struggled to keep him breathing. He tried to stem the flow, but it wasn’t the blood on the outside that was the problem. It was the injuries on the inside. Edward’s eyes were dulled with pain, looking at Jon with a desperate request that Jon refused to grant. He would not end Edward’s pain, because he would not lose Edward. He refused._

_“Jon-”_

_Edward tried to speak, coughed up blood as Jon shushed him and held him close to his chest. He tried to get up and carry Edward somewhere safe, somewhere that could save him, but his legs wouldn’t move. Why wouldn’t his legs move? All he could do was hold Edward closer and sob as he went limp in Jon’s arms._

 

\-----

_Jon had tried. He had tried so hard to get there in time. He’d scoured the city, he’d butchered the people responsible, he’d rushed to Edward’s aid as quickly as he was physically able to do. It still wasn’t enough. His scythe fell from his limp fingers. Edward’s head hung low, his body bruised and beaten, blood dripping from his face and onto his torn pants. He was still tied to the chair._

_Jon got closer and tried to determine a cause of death. Maybe if it was quick, if he knew Edward hadn’t suffered, it would hurt less. But he was disappointed. Edward had been beaten to death and had surely been in agony before the end. Jon’s throat closed and his eyes stung as he took in the destroyed remnants of Edward’s young face, his expression lax and completely devoid of life._

_He had tried. He had tried so hard to get there in time._

_He wasn’t fast enough. He wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t strong enough or smart enough and he couldn’t save him, couldn’t protect him, and now Edward was-_

\------

_He hadn’t meant to. He dropped the knife, stumbling back against the kitchen counter. Edward’s hands were clutched to the wound in his stomach, his eyes pained in more ways than one. He looked betrayed. He looked heartbroken. Tears welled in his eyes just as Jon was sure tears welled in his own. He hadn’t meant to. He hadn’t meant to!_

_But that didn’t matter. The wound shouldn’t have been immediately fatal, but Edward fell anyway. There was more blood than there should’ve been. His limbs bent the wrong way as he sprawled across the bloodstained linoleum, his lifeless eyes stared at Jon accusingly. Lifeless? He shouldn’t be dead yet. There shouldn’t be that much blood._

_He hadn’t meant to do this. He never wanted to harm Edward, let alone kill him-_

 

\------

 

Jon’s entire body jerked when he woke up, his breath strangled in his chest and his entire body tense. His eyes stung and his cheeks were wet. He was shaking hard. For a sickening moment he was sure he was in bed alone, that at least one of the images he’d seen were true and Edward wouldn’t be there anymore.

But he was. He was right there, curled gently against Jon’s side with an arm draped over his chest. He was fast asleep, calm and content, safe and sound. He was okay. He was safe and he was okay and he was alive. Jon could have cried from relief. When was the last time he had had a nightmare? It had been years. He had nothing to fear anymore and so his subconscious no longer tormented him as he slept.

But now, apparently, he had something to fear.

Carefully, he shifted in bed, trying not to wake his partner. It wasn’t hard. Edward was a ridiculously heavy sleeper.

_It would be so easy for someone to kill him in his sleep._

No. Jon wouldn’t let that happen. He would always be there, and he was a painfully light sleeper on the nights he slept at all. If anyone tried to cause harm to Edward, in his sleep or otherwise, Jon would tear them apart. He pulled Edward closer and held him tight to his chest. The weight of the man against him was comforting, the shape of him in Jon’s arms was soft and warm and very much alive. A surge of protective rage fueled him as his mind's eye showed him someone creeping into Edward’s bedroom with foul intent. His arms tightened around the other man.

_We won’t always be there to save him._

Edward could take care of himself if he had to. He was a capable young man, not a defenseless victim.

_But this world is so cruel. So harsh and sharp and deadly, and he is so very soft. So very fragile. One knife, one bullet, one clot of blood in his brain, one botched heist, one ill-fated side effect of Arkham medication- It wouldn’t take much to rip Edward away from us._

Panic was a feeling he’d been intimately familiar with, once. Now it was almost foreign to him as it twisted in his gut, welled up in his chest and clawed its way into his lungs and up into his throat.

_Edward could be dead right now. His body wouldn’t go cold right away-_

The thought didn’t need to finish. He didn’t need to rationalize why Edward might be dead. The possibility was enough. Jon shifted Edward off of him and slid down to lay his head on Edward’s chest, pressing his ear just above where his heart would be. He slid his own long, cold fingers around one of Edward’s wrists and felt for a pulse even as the strong rhythm of his heart sounded in his ear.

He was alive. He was fine. He was okay. He was right there with Jon and he was okay. Nothing would hurt him. Jon wouldn’t let them, he’d kill anyone who so much as thought of causing harm to him.

He knew he was being irrational. He knew this wasn’t like him. He knew it wasn’t realistic to think he would always be able to protect Edward, that he could fight off Death Itself or that he had any control over an aneurism or disease. So very many things could take Edward away from him.

He froze when he felt Edward shift beneath him and remained tense as Edward’s fingers carded through his hair. Jon’s grip on Edward’s wrist tightened just a little.

“You okay?” Edward mumbled, still half asleep. It wasn’t common for Jon to lie on him like that. Usually Jon was content to simply hold him. It was quiet for a long moment as Jonathan struggled to speak. He knew the words, but he was so choked with terror and tears that he could hardly sound them out.

“I’m okay if you’re okay.” He finally managed, hoarse and shaky as it was.

“I’m fine, Jonathan.” Edward soothed, and Jon wondered how much he knew. Did he know how much he scared Jon? Did he know how much time Jon spent fearing all the things that could hurt Edward? Did he know how vividly Jon could see his demise?

“I’m right here.” The shorter man continued. “I’m right here and I’m okay.” Maybe he knew more than Jon thought.

Jonathan closed his eyes tightly, then opened them as he released Edward and leaned up on his elbow to look down at his lover in the dark. Edward was smiling at him gently, a soft look in his tired eyes. Jon extended a trembling hand and ran it through Edward’s dishevelled hair before settling it on his cheek. Ed put his own hand over it and leaned up to kiss him. It was slow and chaste, but charged with painful emotion that made Jon’s heart clench inside his chest. Once, he’d believed he lacked a heart completely. It took Edward very little time to prove that to be false. Or maybe it had been true and Edward had simply brought it back to him.

He pressed closer, kissed Edward deeper and held his face in his hands. He kissed him desperately, and Edward pressed into it willingly despite how tired he must have been. He threaded a hand in Jon’s hair, pulling him down as Edward laid back. Jon held himself over him, thoroughly kissing him breathless. As Edward sucked much needed air into his lungs, Jon pressed kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, his jawline, anywhere he could reach. In particular he pressed them to the pulse point of Edward’s neck, the action seeming almost reverent. Edward shivered under Jon’s hands, his own clutching Jon just as closely with one in his hair and one on his shoulder.

“I love you.” Jon told him, something he said much less often than Edward did. He returned to Edward’s lips, pressing a kiss to them that was lighter but no less tender. The look he gave Edward reflected his words, showing absolute love with a backdrop of terror. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” Edward assured, kissing him gently in return. “I know, Jon. I know.” The words were whispered between kisses, until finally Jon seemed appeased. Their foreheads rested together, both closing their eyes and savoring the closeness. Then Jon dropped back down onto the bed beside Edward, gathered him close and pressed another kiss to the top of his head. Edward went gladly, snuggling up to his partner and practically nuzzling him. Jon knew he loved the attention, the affection. Even if it kept him from going back to sleep.

“I love you.” Jon repeated, unable to banish the image of Edward bleeding out in his arms. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

“Nothing will happen to me, Jon.” Edward assured, though they both know it was a promise he couldn’t make. “I’m okay. I’m safe here, with you.” He was already half asleep again, but Jon knew he wouldn’t be joining Edward any time soon. 

He would stay up holding him the rest of the night, trying to stop thinking about how empty his life would be if Edward was not in it.

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a project I'm going with angsti-firefli c: He did a lovely art piece for this when you can find here: https://angsty-firefli.tumblr.com/post/167485288222/he-just-stays-on-the-ground-clutching-edward


End file.
